A tale of an Odd Illidari
by Benigitsune
Summary: This story follows the journey of a Demon Huntress by the name of Kylandras: nonchalant, seemingly carefree Blood elf with power to beat down many demons she comes across and a ceaseless hunger for a good fight. Rated M for blood and gore content. Most likely become more fitting as I, the glorious writer, go into more detail! So come in, take a seat, and I shall tell you a Tale.
1. Chapter 0: I was not prepared?

"Talking"

" _Thinking"_

" **Deity/Demon/Empowered Talking"**

" _ **Deity/Demon/Empowered Thinking"**_

Communication via portal, Shouting/Gadget

*Sound Effect*

Disclaimer!: I do not own Blizzard nor do I own World of warcraft, the only things that I own are the character's that I design and bring to life within the story. Basically, I don't own anything! I'm a bit on the broke-side to even _own_ the company that is Blizzard...does that work? Am I doing the disclaimer thingy right? 

* * *

**Chapter 0: I was not prepared?**

" **Your Cause dies with Him!"**

"Lord Illidan!" A reflexive action, impulsive with the desire to protect the leader of the Illidari Cause. The woman swung her warglaive at the incoming flail, protecting her lord...but improperly deflecting it, resulting in a painful loss.

*CRUNCH!*

*RIIIIIIIP*

"GAH!" Her left arm torn off at the shoulder, only the fel-tainted blood that pumped through her body was evidence of what she'd lost. The lost limb falling into a pit of corrupted fel-energies, overloading and ultimately destroying it completely. Leaving the demon huntress with nothing but her sole armament.

The demon lord that took her arm now furious at his prevented attempt on Illdan's life. One massive arm smacking into the blood elf, sending her flying back into a nearby pillar, said woman now being brought face to face with the demon responsible for the wound. Light-headed from the blood-loss, she still managed to put on a straight, angered face of her own.

" **Hehehah! You smell more...Demon than Human...You would serve us well indeed."**

"Tch, never! You damn Demon!" Making no hint as to what was about to happen to the Demonlord, she allowed herself to give a smirk when as the blade of a warglaive was plunged into the Demon's back, a savage twist and wrench finishing the job, leaving the demon to burst into fel-energies. Energies which faded away into nothingness, completely destroyed.

Illidan, the leader of the Illidari approached the initiate, no actual emotion showing through his actions, but more through his words.

" **Your arm...I'm afraid this will be where your fight ends, I have no need for usele-"**

*BOOM*

The ground thundered as the woman stomped the ground with one foot, power making itself known through the action.

"Bah! I still have another arm, I have my legs and my body, my Lord. No sacrifice is too much for the Cause!" As if to prove her point further, she took up one of her warglaives, demonic power channeling into the blade, manifesting as fires that super-heated the blade. "Tis but a flesh wound compared to all we've fought for. I can still fight, I _will_ fight." Presenting her weapon to her leader, the ever bold huntress turned her body towards the man, bracing herself as she nodded her head. Urging Him to test her resolve once again.

If anything, Illidan was impressed that there was someone willing to cut him off, and even moreso at the willingness for such a painful way to seal the wound. And so, he indulged her silent request, using his own power to heat the blade further until it was glowing white with heat. Not waiting a second longer, the flat of the blade was pressed against her shoulder, and with it, came a pain that risked her life, through enduring both the pain, and restraining her demonic-powers even still.

*Tssssssss!*

*!*

Agony, in its purest form, worse than when she took on the powers of the demons she so dearly despised. Her will crumbling at the beginning, the pain from the burn and the weakness of bloodloss seeming to almost completely encompass all thought. But there was one thought that prevailed through all this. 'I am _not_ done!' Simple and to the point, her consciousness coming back with full clarity as she gritted her teeth and clenched her sole fist, her power brimming out out into her body as it went a _change_. The fel-tattoos that once marred her skin dispersing as all of the demonic energy bent to the iron will of her mind, a snarl wrenching itself from her lips as she backed away when the wound was sealed shut completely by the fel-fire heated blade.

Her eyes widening behind her blindfold as she inspected her power, the pain fading as her changed body numbed the pain, the 'mild' stinging to her was almost as bad as when the wound was seared shut. Will steeled and her body feeling stronger that before, she got up from her kneeling position with an almost _feral_ grin on her face.

"My body...has changed…" The grin becoming one of pride as she continued, looking at Illidan with her newfound strength. "I shall learn what I am capable of and become a mighty weapon to be wielded against the Burning Legion!" Taking up her weapon once again, she gave one more nod to her Lord. "There's more demons left, I should help clear up whatever's left." Walking towards the exit out of the fortress, she looked back over her shoulder at Illidan. "No sacrifice too big for the , my Lord?" She questioned, not waiting a second more as she jumped, leaving a small crater from the force of the jump. By the sound of the surprised yelp, it seemed that the demon huntress was surprised as well, said surprised yelp changing to a battlecry as she landed blade-first into a demon that was unfortunate enough to be in her landing path.

Allowing some pride to show in his voice now that he was alone, Illidan chuckled to himself as he spoke up. " **No sacrifice too big indeed…."** And with that, Illidan, The Betrayer walked out of the fortress, moving to prepare the portal gate back to home base.

Meanwhile, a rather elated Illidari baffled and shocked her compatriots with her behaviour, and her abilities that she used with partial effectiveness and some intuition to kill, maim and outright eviscerate her demonic foes in the battle. That was the day that a new warrior walked into the spotlight, combat prowess matched only by those of equal status. The first Victory of the Illidari, and the birth of The Odd Illidari, leader of the Demon Hunting Inquisition.

 ***Scene change, fast forward XXXXX years.***

(*Location: Outland, The Black Temple.*)

"Now Go, but remember, should you fail-"

"Yeah yeah, all worlds will burn. We'll be back with the Keystone as soon as we can, my Lord. You can count on us." A female voice casually interrupted, not irritating, but only seeming to provide some comfort to the casualness of her behaviour. Starting off at a walking pace towards the portal, she waved over her shoulder at Illidan. "Just worry about not getting beaten by those Mortals now, we'll be back soon." With those words said, her features turned into a grin as she gave a joyful howl as she jumped into the portal, the force catapulting her through it and into the realm of Mardum.

It was a known fact that portals allowed one to just move without losing any speed, so it was without surprise when the speeding, ever violent missile that was the elf soared through the tainted skies of Mardum, a gauntleted fist smashing a fel-bat out of the sky, slowing her enough that her descent arched down sharply...right into an Imp Mother, a spinning axe kick with a plated greave slamming into the demon, reducing its head to mush. Along with the rest of its body as well as the blonde speared right through, only stopping when she hit the ground with a thunderous-

* **BOOM!***

The shockwave and subsequent miniature aftershocks alerting all demons to her presence. Stepping out of the dust-filled crater with a cough, the demon huntress chuckled as she looked at the small army of demons that moved into fighting stances as one of their arch nemesis revealed themselves. Not that she was afraid, in fact, she was slightly irritated as she spoke up.

"Hey! What's the holdup here!? I thought I trained you guys enough to deal with this small number of demons!" She shouted, making some demons who recognised who she was flinch away...before their ranks were soon cut-down and reduced to nothing but flesh and parted bones in the wake of a battalion of demon hunters revealed themselves, making the woman grin as they stood at attention before her. Calmly swinging her arm back to bash the head in of a imp that tried sneaking up on her, she spoke up once again.

"Took ya long enough! Now then...My Inquisitors...shall we be off? We've got demons to kill and a keystone to get. Don't forget to apprehend some portals to bring reinforcements in as well, like it or not, we aren't a one-man army. I think some of us can attest to that when I had to bail your asses out of some sticky situations. Now then, there's my orders, secure a foothold for our forces and kill any demons that get in our way, we've got a task to do and we shall do it! Don't try and die now, I'll just find you and make sure you survive for a sparring match with me!" There were several winces at the note of that punishment, but none of the Illidari seemed fazed by what they faced, saluting once more before rushing out to do as they were ordered.

"Sheesh, Kyla, you're such a slave-driver today." A lazy voice said, a night elf clad in similar clothing as her, Kylandras smiled laxly as he stood next to his leader.

"Oh shut it, Varadin. You're only complaining 'cause you know that I won't crack you over the head for your whining. Now come, we've got work to do." Setting off after her fellow demon hunters, Kylandras smiled as she saw some of the colossal demons that could be seen in the distance. "Hey now, I don't like that look on your face...H-hey! Wait up!" Varadin said as Kyla surged off into the distance, already rushing towards the colossal infernals. Letting out an irritated sigh, the male demon hunter just shook his head in remorse for how battle-hungry his leader was, before disappearing in a burst of movement, swiftly following after his leader to make sure she didn't do anything drastic

And with that, the scene faded, the story to be continued at another time. Keep an eye out for the next chapter in this tale of an Odd Illidari. 

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Author's note: Hey there! Benigitsune here! Hope you enjoyed this chapter of my first story that I'll be posting on fanfiction. Please read and review if you like, and constructive criticism is always appreciated, so I can make sure to deliver a better next chapter! Flamer's, flame on, I guess? Past experience with this site tells me it'll be interesting to see what some people say. That's all for now, hope this entices you to read more, until next time…

Ja ne!


	2. Seizing the Sargerite Keystone Pt1

"Talking"

" _Thinking"_

" **Deity/Demon/Empowered Talking"**

" _ **Deity/Demon/Empowered Thinking"**_

Communication via portal, Shouting/Gadget

*Sound Effect*

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything other than the character Kylandras and other characters I make up within this story. I don't own Blizzard or World of Warcraft or any of the other franchises. To make that clear, I don't own anything but the OC's I create within this story, if a character pops up with one of the names I chose then, well...fuck...I am doing this right, right?**

* * *

 **Chapter 1 : Seizing the Sargerite Keystone**

Mardum, yet another world that'd fallen to the fel-plague that was the Burning Legion. In another place, in another time, the battle to sunder the forces of Mardum would have been a uphill struggle that'd require the strength of Illidan's forces to make any progress at all. But with Kylandras leading her personal battalion of inquisitors into battle, the additional forces that would eventually be recruited into the battle via the various portals scattered throughout Mardum were only required to help secure a foothold. Such was the strength of those who were trained personally by the one-armed Illidari, the Inquisition, the name itself had been taken from one of Kylandras' encounters with the various armies of the Light. An inquisition dedicated to the cause of serving Illidan and one day destroying the Burning Legion.

Said battalion leader was just observing the battle from atop of one of the mountains that littered the landscape of demonically tainted world. The blonde blood elf perched on a ridge that gave her the perfect view of her advancing forces, who'd been given their orders: Open the portals and bring their forces through, plunder any demonic magic that would be of use to them and establish a foothold to advance upon fortress where Blood Queen Tyranna, the foul being safeguarding the Sargerite Keystone. From the looks of things, everything was going according to plan, although if there was one thing that Kylandras could think of the current situation it was...

"Boring! Where's all the tough demons!? I thought they'd put more effort into defending such a powerful artefact!" She shouted, startling some of the fel-tainted critters dwelling a along the mountainside." The normally chipper woman grumbled out, checking over her gauntlet and greaves once more before standing up. "I'm heading out, Varadin. I can see some more Infernal's dropping in, might as well reduce them to size since nothing else wants to challenge me." She spoke seemingly to no one, before her.

"Oh for the love of- Wait up!" The second-in-command called out as his leader bounded off into the distance towards the sickly green coloured fire-balls rushing down towards an some of her inquisitors. The call unanswered as the warrior elf let out a joyous battle cry as she reached the apex of her jump, beginning her descent towards where one colossal Infernal was already rising up into its humanoid form. Detecting the cry of something rushing towards it, the Infernal looked up just in time to see a heavy plated foot crash with a thunderous smash. Enhanced strength making all the force of the dive-kick all the more awe-inspiring as the one blow was enough to utterly annihilate the demonic being. Which collapsed just as its two brethren were rising, both of which observed their fellow demon fall to such a thunderous blow.

"Inquisitors! I'll take care of these Infernals! Rally to your team leaders and show these demons no mercy!" Kylandras shouted, rolling her shoulder with a grin before she jumped once again, launching from the broken corpse of one infernal right into another. Which, while prepared, still wasn't ready for the sheer force that was put into the punch that sent it crashing down to the ground, sending waves of fel-lava surging everywhere. Ever present was that fearful grin upon her face even as she tore into one colossal infernal with the strength of a thousand Illidari! But of course, this was just another day for the inquisitors, who just cheered for their Leader and pressed on with the task at hand, rushing towards any poor demon that thought they could stand a chance against the sheer might of the Inquisition!

"For Illidan! Slay'em all!"

There was no cheering, it was just a loud, thunderous battle-cry made by the demonically charged voices of demon hunters who fought together as a unit! Where one of their group couldn't take down a demon, another Illidari would take the opportunity to slash and hamstring the creature, allowing for an easy take-down. It was a combat technique drilled into each member of the Inquisition; if one of us can't take one down, seize the moment to help a fellow Illidari out! Be it distracting the target, or weakening it for an easy take-down. Most importantly, never stop moving for one single moment. With bodies trained and honed into the finest weapons, to pursue is what the Inquisition did after all.

Being the dogged hunters whom didn't let their prey a chance to breathe, it wasn't pretty, it wasn't elegant, it was war, plain and simple. While anyone looking upon the battlefield, it was chaos, something a demon would love due to their penchant for destruction. But it was an organised chaos, which the Inquisition controlled, turning any exposed back as an opportunity to cut down another foe. Some demon hunters just heading for another target if another of their kind had gotten into position, running past their previous enemy just in time for it to get cut down. Truly, it was a war combat technique that practised madness on a large-scale and used it as a pushing force, allowing the Inquisition to open up the portals, allowing their various forces to help them maintain their hold on the ground that was gained with each passing minute.

While other Illidari would prefer to go on their own and hunt down as many demons as possible, the Inquisition were trained to fight together as a unit, finding kinship and family in their fellow members they laughed, they cried, they trained together and fought as brothers and sisters. Such was the bond they held that it was a nigh-unstoppable force, just like Kylandras herself.

Said Blood Elf was busily laughing, _laughing_ her foes, colossal infernals that would inspire fear and terror in normal beings, but Kylandras wasn't of the normal sort. Where a normal Illidari's punch would merely crack the ground, hers would tear the earth asunder, splitting mountains and enemies as well, if they were in her way. So colossal infernals were, to her at least, merely demonic rocks that she could destroy with a single punch if she so wish. And she did, when one made the mistake of trying to take as many Illidari with it before the laughing battle-crazed demon hunter set her eyes upon it. An abnormal coldness struck the fiery being, and before it could decipher that it was the tiny, frighteningly strong woman that was now screaming through the air thanks to the sheer force of the kick she used on the infernal she was fighting, using it as a platform.

The unfortunate infernal's face, that Kylandras had used as a platform, had been reduced to pebbles as its corpse fell to the ground. It was over in a moment, one moment the huntress had been playing with her foe, the next, she'd dispatched one with a kick to its face, and used the force of her kick to propel her towards the brave/stupid demon that had thought to turn itself against her Inquisition. A speeding bullet was what Kylandras could be described as, not even noticing the sturdiness of her intended target as she'd simply held a demonic energy-charged fist in front of her and speared through the head of her target. The death of two powerful demons being killed so quickly, it was a morale-shattering occurrence, instilling fear into the remaining demons, who were slain with ease by the Inquisition, who didn't even flinch when that colossal infernal had intended on attacking them.

Despite her nonchalant personality, Kylandras was nothing of the sort when it came to protecting her battalion. An unstoppable battalion, spear-headed by an equally unstoppable commander, it was a swift battle, and not a single demon was left wherever the Inquisition marched. From Despair ridge to Seat of Command, the Inquisition marched on, slaying any foolish demon that dared stand in their path, and it was only when they'd passed through Inferno Peak that their momentum finally slowed. The cause? Huge, demonic war machines that flung molten fel-fire balls along any path of approach.

* * *

Normally this wouldn't cause any troubles for the Illidari, but their other forces would be destroyed in a matter of a minute after stepping into range of those massive fel-tanks. But then there was the troubling situation of demonic forces beginning to lay siege to their base of operations overlooking the demons base of operations: The Fel Hammer. They were holding the line rather well for the moment, but with each moment that passed, it was a stalemate that would be won by numbers, which the demon forces of the Brood Queen Tyranna. The battle was a struggle, flesh was torn asunder by fel-imbued blades, fel-energy clashed with fel-energy and countless waves of insect-like demons were cutdown, but not without inflicting injuries upon the elite soldiers of the Inquisition.

Wounds bled fel-tainted blood and some Illidari had to fight even harder to control their power. And then, all of a sudden, just as quickly as the hordes of demons had began their siege, they retreated. Normally, this would rally any normal soldier that fought against the Burning Legion, but for the Inquisition, it was a tactic that had been seen many times before. More often than not, this brutal, straight-forward tactic would sunder the ranks of any army that stood before it. But the Inquisition were ready, they were prepared and ready to slaughter every fucking demon in sight.

"Swarm..." Kylandras appeared like a ghost in the midst of her troops, whom cleared the path as they saw magic, _magic_ begin to course through her body, the sharp blue lightning a sharp contrast to the normal fel-green energy that most Illidari used. This magic that Kylandras was using was merely a summoning technique to call forth something from her personal pocket dimension. Armour glowed brighter as both energies, mana and fel were _forced_ into cooperation, creating a power that forced the runes and empowerment's that imbued the short Blood Elf with a power that could only be matched by those whom stood on a whole other level to the rest of the pantheons.

Reaching behind her back, like one would draw a large weapon, Kylandras' hand dipped into a spell-circle that opened up the way to her pocket dimension, at first it seemed like a pointless gesture, but then she _grasped_ something, and the air was filled with pure power, raw, untainted and most-certainly not benevolent in nature. Muscles flexed and slowly, infinitely slowed down to all who set their eyes upon her form. First was a handle, a long, maybe a full foot long in length, handle topped with an adamantite pommel.

And then? The spell circle _bulged,_ straining as it was forced to stretch to full capacity, and in one fluid motion, _it_ was revealed to the world of Mardum to witness. It was a sword, although some would argue and attest to this, it was no mere sword, it wouldn't even class as a two-handed sword in all its colossal glory. Blades, serrated and littered with all kinds of magically empowered runes, it was a god-damned monstrosity, a weapon made to slay even bigger monsters that opposed its wielder. It was a weapon more befitting for someone at least two feet taller than the six foot, ten inches tall Blood Elf, but the sword wasn't the only thing that changed.

Armour, heavy, plated and horridly dense, seemed to _melt_ into existence, the world screamed as a colossal force was summoned, runes too, littered this armour, covering every part of Kylandras' body, and magic reinforced and powered this immense creation. Forged for the one who held the strength to sunder mountains and slaughter thousands of demons within minutes, it was armour that seemed to challenge anything to _dare_ striking it. Titan-forged, that was the title this armour held, and a title given to weapons and artefacts that were made by the titans, or wielded a power that could rival even the Old Ones themselves with their potential.

Did I mention that this was only _magic_ that was being used at first? Oh, well let me enlighten you, my dear readers as to what happened when this armour and sword, were taken into the mould and insane machinations of Kylandras.

"Ah shit, the Commander's pissed!"

That was putting it lightly, this equipment was made to slay foes of a countless magnitude, such as what the Commander was about to face. As mentioned before, this was a tactic that could only be employed within hive-world of the Burning Legion. The ground trembled as two forces of colossal power prepared and were ready to clash, to tear eachother apart and leave nothing but raw entrails scattered everywhere. Kylandras herself, currently was only the normal size of her current form, but that all changed when the unholy, air-quaking force of her fel-energies, were employed upon her. A spell she'd learnt to better become a weapon of destruction to all demonic foes she faced; Metamorphosis. Fel power swarmed and surged force, bent under an indomitable will and made to empower its wielder, changing and moulding her form to match the size of the armour she, for a lack of a better word, _grew_ into and with as well, thanks to many enchantments and runes imbued into it. The armour, a solid metal monstrosity matching the sword that rested against her back grew until both it and its wielder were now twelve-foot in size, making the sword, seem more in place now.

 **"Inquisition, don't let a single survivor pass through here. Get every fucking one of those lazy asses that are my squad leaders to tear those defences apart. I'll be busy rearranging the landscape here."** Orders uttered by a being that stood at the precipice of being a force of nature that rivalled even Illidan in nature, it was quite easy to understand why Kylandras was entrusted with such an important task. The fel-energies brimming through her body changing the armour she wore even further, twisting it until it matched its wielders needs, a vicious, spiked and bladed armour that seemed to speak of death to any that would oppose it. Her sword shifting as well, until it was twisted even further, serrated teeth growing sharper and heavier until a God of Death stood upon that slaughter-field.

War, a simple name, embodying the aspect of battle and combat. The battle of wit and strategies and numbers and gruesome in all its nature. It was the name given to her armour, a weapon, as it could no longer be called armour as it was, that declared death awaited all that faced it. To any lesser being, it would've driven them to heart-attacks or outright ending themselves, to save themselves from a fate worse than death. That fate? Well the sword that was held in her only hand was something that was of a all unnatural nature now. It had slaughtered many demons in its time the sheer demonic energy running through it delivered many demons to a permanent death, their souls destroyed and their energy used to fuel this war-machine. Its name: Belial. May have no rising. Fitting for death and destruction was all it wrought.

Now, one must ask yourself this question: Why had Kylandras brought out such a fearsome weapon? Well, to fight an insurmountable odd, sometimes one had to become something different in order to match the scale of which the Commander faced. Swarm, a large amount of numbers moving in one direction, it was a tactic that had been used by the insect-like demons that were apart of the Burning Legion's ranks. Hundreds of thousands of insect demons all being made to charge towards the presumably foolish resistance that could normally hold against such numbers. But this was different, an insect swarm under the power of multiple hive-minds was a horrifying thought, a normal swarm was of a number of at least 300,0000. The Number that was surging forth, making ground shudder and quake and crack under its force?

800,0000. A will-breaking number to even _hear_ was facing you, but to Kylandras?

 _ **"Lunch-time~"**_ The Commander had lost too many fellow Illidari to this tactic to feel nothing but a seething, heart-stopping rage for her foe. Many worlds had fallen to this cold, mindless strategy for her to tolerate it anymore. So she decided it was time for an insurmountable force, to meet a colossal, unstoppable force of War. The time had come, both sides were steeled, prepared for the clash of forces that would decide whether the Inquisition would fall, or stand atop of the countless bodies of demons with their prize in hand. Magic and Fel-energy worked as one to fuel this Titan of War, her hand lifting her Belial onto one massive pauldron. Kylandras took her first step forwards towards her foe,

And WAR, marched towards its next battle.

* * *

 _ **Authors Note:**_

 _ **Right, and that is where I stop this part. I do so dearly hope that I've got some readers enticed to reading this. My eardrums hurt from listening to all kinds of music like Seven nation army right now. So consider this a warning that the next chapter will take a while to make, both requiring my motivation, and what not. Anyway, hope ya'll have enjoyed this chapter, and I'll talk with you all again soon!**_


	3. Seizing the Sargerite Keystone Pt2

"Talking"

" _Thinking"_

" **Deity/Demon/Empowered Talking"**

" _ **Deity/Demon/Empowered Thinking"**_

¦Communication via portal, Shouting/Gadget¦

*Sound Effect*

 _*TimeSkip*_

 _Scene change_

(`Author's Music suggestion`)

(*+additional stars.) = Plot points, use Ctrl+F along with the number of *'s that are used in the brackets to quickly go to the bottom of the chapter for an explanation of the plot point. Not sure if this'll help but thought I'd put this here to help anyway.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything other than the character Kylandras and other characters I make up within this story. I don't own Blizzard or World of Warcraft or any of the other franchises. To make that clear, I don't own anything but the OC's I create within this story, if a character pops up with one of the names I chose then, well...fuck...I am doing this right, right? There will be additional stuff from other stories/games or whatever included depending on whatever I feel particularly inspired by utilising within this story of mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2 : Seizing the Sargerite Keystone Pt. 2**

 _Elsewhere in Mardum_

The various forces of the Inquisition were battling, working their way through the ranks of demons that they came across. This group of Illidari possessed strengths and skills that were quite out of the ordinary for normal Illidari, such as the weapons, techniques and skills they possessed. Coming across another patrol of demons, one of their group surged forwards, leaping into the air towards them, screaming as he came down upon them with a thunderous crash, shattering ground, flesh bone and carapace alike. Fel-tainted blood splattered across his form as he wielded a heavy plated shield the size of his body on one arm, and a flail in the other, both tools were brutally effective in their execution, blocking weapons sharp enough to cleave through most normal shields and armour. Whereas one arm stopped blows from sinking into his body, the other wielded a flail that could only be utilised effectively by a warrior who'd honed their body to swing around the heavy, fel-green stained ball of metal, even the chain of the flail was made to be just as dangerous, allowing him to cut a swath through the 'patrol' of enemies in front of him.

Said 'patrol' was more like reinforcements that were heading on their way towards the front flank of the Inquisitions foothold. A small army of its own that had now turned on the foe within their ranks, seeking to cut down the one whom they believed to be doing a suicidal attack upon them approaching the Night Elf who was already preparing his flail, daring them to come towards him and be shattered against shield and flail alike. That first line of demons were swiftly reminded that this wasn't an ordinary Illidari, but one who was apart of the Inquisition, a fact that was apparent as even more demons were cut down with a single slash of a weapon. The owner of said weapon appearing with a sigh on their lips.

"Oi, Haldorin! Stop charging ahead like that! It's so tiring to always keep rushing after you, ya damn battlenut!" A masculine voice, another male, another Blood Elf, it seemed. Immediately from the tone of voice, one could say this person was very laid-back, almost monotone in nature with only the slightest hints of emotion showing through it. This man's choice of weapon was menacing in look, and how effectively it sundered flesh and armour apart, a scythe, with a green, serrated blade along the inner curve of it. The shaft was a solid metal pole with a spiked pommel at the end, bladed and sharpened to the point where it easily sunk into the ground.

"Bah! Be quiet Varadin, you lazy ass! You always make a fight so quick! This is what we do! We fight and fight and slay all who stand in our path! We shall prove ourselves within each battle we face, in the glory of combat against the Burning Legion!" Haldorin roared out, declaring this to the world, as if to prove to it that here he stood, for them to face him, all while his flail swung backwards and forth, discarding arms, legs and various over body-parts and organs with each swing. Varadin setting into his own foes with a swiftness that betrayed his normal laziness. Ranks upon ranks were cut-apart with each deadly swing of his scythe, slain demons didn't even notice they were dead until torso's fell apart and others were split in twain.

It was at this time, where the two Illidari were fighting in the middle of the demons ranks, that the heavy hitters of the demonic ranks finally marched towards their sworn enemies. Felguards and Doomguards, immense demonic beings starting at twenty foot in height and terminating at around thirty to forty feet in height, only outshone by Pit Lords. These were army-killers in their own right when matched against normal armies, but Illidari weren't normal in any way shape or form, and neither were the Inquisition. Case and point when one of the huge demons were cut apart by a huge, dense axe, the force of it colliding into the ground scattering the smaller demons with ease. Said weapon seeming to shrink slowly until it was the size of a normal two-handed axe, albeit with a rather ridiculously large head. The blade of this particular weapon was jagged in places, with chips and pieces missing, only to be used in its design to better shred flesh and make wounds hard to heal.

All the damage within this axe was made to incorporate the damages upon it, age could be seen from it, as if someone hadn't wanted to part with it, and so they'd made the degradation's on it, flaws and weaknesses in its design, strengthened and sharpened. All this making a weapon that declared how it'd slain many foes and wouldn't stop until it was reduced to nothing by either something destroying it, or the passage of time finally reclaiming it.

"Yahoo~! And here I thought you boys were taking all the fun and leaving none for me, Valienkros!" Amused, mature and prideful, that was how one could describe this woman, a Night Elf who behaved more like a Blood Elf, Valienkros (Or Val, for short.) was a woman whom prided herself on her strength to cut down her foes with one swing of her axe. This being aided by the odd magic that she used, Bestow and Harness. Simply put, she could control the aspects of her weapon, from its what its original size was, to how heavy the axe-head was. The off-set to such a technique, was that it could only be reduced, or increased by half of its original aspects. Of course, it was a very difficult brand of magic to master, but when executed properly, one could change things from how heavy a weapon was, to how sharp it was with but a thought.

A mastery which was employed with brutal, gruesome efficiency to cut down the largest of demons, destroy armour and carapace with an Illidari's natural strength only making it even more terrifying to face her upon the battlefield. Even now, to see such large beings been slain or maimed with a single blow, it was a demoralising thing, paired with a naturally boasting attitude, it was easy to see why the smaller demons scattered like rodents, fleeing from an opponent too powerful to simply overwhelm with size and power alone.

"Thanks for dropping in, Val! Don't think I could take some of these big ones by myself anyway, I'll deal with the small fry with Varadin here! You and that crazed gun-mage deal with their big troops and mages. Just don't take too long, we've gotta get those machines dealt with soon!" It was Haldorin who spoke up, while busying himself chasing after small enemies that rallied and rushed him, only to either be cut down by Varadin, or smashed apart by his flail.

"Thank you~ Now then, shall we get on with the main attraction, Leiot?"

"But of course, my Lady. Excuse me, Ladies and Gentlemen of demon-kind, may I have your attention please?..." Another voice spoke up, startling the various mages as its source appeared, the shimmer of invisibility magic, dressed very differently from the rest of his fellow Illidari, a Blood Elf garbed in a butler's suit of all things. Something that immediately stood out from the norm, there were still the tell-tale signs showing his affiliation to Illidan's cause, but for all intents and purposes, this man looked like a simple butler. A fact that elicited the amused laughter of demons who thought he'd be an easy target, but little did they know...

"For tonight, in this sordid affair of battle against old foes, my Lady and I shall perform an exquisite show..." Two weapons were drawn from the inside pockets of Leiot's suit, guns, rather advanced, intricately designed pistols which didn't seem to have any chambers or magazine slots for ammunition. Lining the barrel length of them were two blades, allowing for close-quarter combat, which became evident as the butler spun on the spot and decapitated a magic-hunter that was mid-lunge towards him.

"A beautiful slaughtering of demonic filth, scattering blood upon this desecrated land!" And with that, both guns were brought to bare and runes glowed while just underneath the sleeves of that suit, the familiar blue glow of magic was seen, disappearing underneath white gloves. Where magic brimmed in both guns before said weapons fired, bullets flying everywhere with each pull of a trigger before they split apart into metallic shrapnel that tore into tough hide and flesh, killing any that stood in front of the man, dead bodies collapsing with faces in shock of such devastating weaponry tearing them apart. This lead to numerous more deaths as more were exposed until the effective range of the scatter shot was inefficient. From there the butler set into charging at the nearest enemy, utilising normal gun shots to kill many a demon with clinical efficiency. Whereas the other three preferred to kill their foes by tearing them apart and leaving nothing left, Leiot was of a different persuasion, specialising in being capable of getting in and out of a battlefield without being detected until it was too late, slaying important targets before either leaving or taking advantage of the chaos that comes with normal armies losing their commanders.

"Ah, as beautiful as ever to see you work, Leiot." Valien mused to herself, before stomping down on her axe-handle, dis-lodging it from the ground before slipping down and grabbing the weapon setting off towards more of the Felguards, either stopping for a moment to taunt her enemies into attacking, or leap up and swipe at one of the Doomguards flying above. Most of the time leading to one getting a wing-clipped and falling down to the earth, where it soon met its end either by Valien herself, or one of her fellow compatriots on the battlefield.

These were the four commanding powers that lead the rest of the Inquisition forces, only second to Kylandras herself. The Four Hunters of the Legion, leaders in their own right whom took orders from the Commander herself. Normally, such leadership roles meant that one was in the back-line of affairs, managing the battlefield from the safety of the base of operations. But these were Illidari, and there was always a constant need to slay demons and nothing was ever static, the Inquisition even more so as they were a relatively small battalion that worked to be highly mobile, capable of fighting through hordes of demons and completing their objectives with ease. In a normal operation, the four would work with their respective squads to destroy their enemies, but for this particular operation, where time was of the essence and there was an extremely important objective in sight, it was easy to see why they formed their team of old. A team which had spawned the creation of the Inquisition within due time as like-minded individuals gathered underneath them to be the ones who stepped first into battle, and left it last.

Legion-bane, a fitting name for such a potent team. If classified by the standards of a ranking, they were an S-rank threat of their own paired together. Hence why it wouldn't take long for them to cut through the reinforcements that they'd came across along the way towards the Demons' war machines which were hampering their progress.

* _20 minutes later.*_

Taking a moment to take a breather and admire their handiwork while planning their next move. While one could say that their team-work was something to inspired, even such a powerful team as this didn't have their own flaws. Such as when discussing strategies for example-

"Why shouldn't we just charge in and destroy the source of these damn machines and then destroy the ones that're active!? It's a great plan!"

"As I said, if you want to draw in every single guard protecting the forge-works, then it's a fine plan for a battle-crazed nutter like you. Killing demons is perfectly fine, but we still need to get the Sargerite Keystone and get back to the Commander!"

"Hmphf, I don't see why we shouldn't terrify these disgusting demons and slay as many of those big ones as possible."

"My Lady, I'm not sure that would be effective against larger scale armies..."

Even without describing who was saying what, it was easy to tell who was talking, Varadin and Haldorin were busy arguing over which method would work the best for dealing with the current situation of their forces. All four were currently approaching their objective now, around maybe three to four hundred feet away now, along the beaten path that the reinforcements they'd decimated had been marching on. They were moving at a steady pace, jogging to conserve energy until they either need to perform an action, be it avoiding a reinforcement group that wasn't difficult for their forces to fight off, aided by dimensional slipping magic that Leiot used. It allowed him to temporarily slip them into another plane of existence, maintaining it wasn't difficult, it was navigating and ensuring one was on the right path, as one false step could have one simple fade out of existence altogether.

Each one of these four Night and Blood Elves were unrivalled in their particular brand of skills, with some being taught to their squads while others explored new avenues, allowing them to become as versatile and unique as possible, aiding in being capable of tackling any task that was brought to the Inquisition. It was without a doubt that time was passing forwards as they went, it didn't simply stop for them, that was the territory of the bronze dragonflight. This fact that time was most certainly of the essence came about when Leiot stopped in his jogging in an instant, turning on the spot and looking back in the direction of the Illidari forces' foothold. Valien, Haldor and Varad(*) didn't even get a chance to ask what happened before they felt it. Power, raw, refined for a distinct purpose and wholly behooving any rowdy behaviour in a person. Hence why when they felt the ever so familiar wave of power wash over them, all four squad leaders' behaviour... _shifted,_ and in that moment, they were no longer the friendly, personalities that were arguing, discussing and voicing opinions were gone.

* * *

And in their place was four of the five Leaders of the Illidari Inquisition.

"Oh dear...I believe that Commander has accessed the pocket dimension I gave her..." Contrary to what some may believe, dimensions, and pocket dimensions especially, were made, they weren't something that could be easily accessed so long as one had the power. One needed the affinity to access such a thing, one could train to do such a thing like imbuing properties into bags and clothing with proper training, but making one through your will and magic? Not so much. One could be given a pocket dimension, through a intricate rune imbuing process where a part of 'space' was given to a person. It was like someone making a apartment or a multi-roomed warehouse, and this process gave one a 'key' to one of those 'rooms' in particular.

If one was had practised with this form of magic for long enough, then their mastery of this magic would allow them to be able to detect when one of the 'rooms' that they've created had been used, along with the location and who it was, so long as the person using the 'key' had permitted that the 'owner' could do so. Seeing as this particular pocket dimension was only really utilised when the situation was critical or Kylandras was taking on a foe that required all of her strength, it was easy for Legion-bane to understand that the situation had changed, albeit slightly.

"I guess it was too much to hope that they wouldn't use the Swarm tactic here. Then taking into account that the demon watching over this place is called Brood Queen, I guess my predictions were correct." Varad said with a grim tone, his hands busy in a set of specific, precise motions that began to channel more Fel-power through his body.

"Heh, guess the Commander's really going to cut loose now, anyone wanna bet if she'll break the world a bit?" Haldor said, musing to himself even as he too began to channel more power through his body. Beginning to mutter demonic chant to himself while taking a knee, shield arm raised as its hand held his face, flail arm/hand planted on the ground, bracing himself as he focused.

"Please, that's a fools bet, of course she's going to tear this place apart! Ugh, I hate doing this, so inelegant." Valien replied, standing in a warriors salute with her hands holding the haft of her axe, slowly beginning to sing to gently, her song spoken in a language lost in the wake of the Burning Legion, its power lost to all but the one who practised it on a daily basis. The same method of mixing magic and fel-energy that Kylandras used revealing itself now as it not only imbued currently unknown effects to her compatriots.

"My Lady, I don't think you could ever be inelegant." It was a simple statement that Leiot made, a fact that he would fervently argue against any who tried to say otherwise. He too, began a ritualistic motion, holding his pistols in a strange manner, one pointed to the sky, while the other was pointed to the ground. The words he chanted were demonic in source as well, but his voice seemed different, as if multiple versions of his voice were speaking in many different languages now. Now the way this effected the group was much different than usual, an illusion of chains began to form upon each of the four Hunters(**), the rattling of their weight settling in, visibly making each of them sag in their positions for a brief moment, before something, deep within them stirred deep inside. If one were to replicate this practise, it simply wouldn't have any effect upon them, as this wasn't a group of rituals, chants and motions intending to imbue effects like Valien's singing did. Rather, this was something they'd all decided on, a way of instilling restraint and limits upon someone. It was a self-inflicted trance that made one believe that they were bound by the chains of normal specifically set limitations, limitations, that _could_ be broken, permitting that one has also set within themselves a special way of releasing the limitations self-set upon them.

In Valien's case, her method was made so she could empower herself, along with all of her allies within range of her, with an additional verse that could be sung to release these limitations until one wished to self-impose their set limitations upon themselves once again. This is why one couldn't replicate what they were doing and expect any effects unless they were the person themselves. Even Kylandras herself had a release mechanism, but that didn't come with the visual effects of chains groaning under a hidden strain, like the four Hunters' chains did, as the illusion didn't need to influence all five senses as it did for Valien, Haldor, Varad and Leiot. Rather it accompanied the sound of those chains being shattered with a-

 **"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅▅▆▆▇▇███"**

Roar that could be heard miles away, doing nothing to her allies in fact, it would do nothing but inspire them, bolstering them and rallying them together, but any whom dared make themselves her enemy, it inspired nothing short of complete and utter terror. (Un)fortunately for her foes, they were a Swarm, mostly rushed into production like machinery, cold, unfeeling, unfearing and unhesitant to charge forth, kill and consume whatever was in their path. The same sound of chains shattering as hidden strength was reclaimed once more like an old veterans sword, unused, but well-maintained and honed. If you were to look upon the four Hunters now, one would be looking upon the unchanged, fel-rune covered forms of three of the four one moment, and the next? Something else, something that wasn't remotely Night Elf or Blood Elf stood there now.

Metamorphosis. The abrupt, rapid, and in this case, instantaneous change body structure, all the way down to each individual cell.

This wasn't to say that some traits of these beings weren't present still, but this was a metamorphosis on a scale that could only be matched by those who'd spent millennia with demonic power coursing through their veins. Each one was different, _changed_ on to become the demon-aspect of what they were, a reflection of what they'd look like as a demon. It was like looking in a mirror, only to see a copy of you if you were another race, from your mannerisms, to the way one spoke. Each of the four newly changed beings didn't speak for a moment, focusing on adjusting to the power they can wield when unrestrained by limits that'd been set.

The first was Varad, his body become around ten foot...eleven feet in height, clothes pulled taut under the size and musculature of a balanced athlete, a body made to maintain a high level of speed that could only be matched by the quickest of demons. A speed to outrun any demon belonging to the Burning Legion. His armour had changed to fit his form, providing adequate protection from anything that wasn't made to contest with demonic beings. His weapon had changed as well, changed by its wielders will imposed onto it into a weapon at best suited him, a scythe all the same, but it seemed to have a looming feeling, a sharpness that seemed to make the air whistle as it brushed by it. Foreboding sharpness that could split, whatever it was put in the path of, on the molecular level. Slothfulness that came from being unrivalled by anything but his greatest foes. Acedia.

 **"Nnnn...Man, it's always so uncomfortable doing the full-Metamorphosis all at once."** The voice that spoke was smooth, with a level of strength that seemed to match the lax attitude Varad possessed.

Haldor's change was much like him, standing tall over Alliance and Horde races alike at fifteen feet in height, his body looked as if it sculpted in such a way that even the hardiest of Warriors and Paladins would be jealous. Strength to withstand the mightiest of blows and still keep marching forwards, ready to sunder swathes of demons with a single blow. The armour he wore had changed like Varad's own whereas he wore light plate-mail in order to better protect his body, was a thin, yet deceptively dense, chainmail-like shirt. Lower clothing consisted of a kilt of the same chainmail running down to his knees, movement wasn't necessary when one aimed to withstand the hardest blows a demon could belt out. Plated boots pushed earth away in a solid imprint wherever he moved. Overall, his armour was no longer the heavy(for a normal Illidari's kit) plate-mail that covered most of his form, skin freely on show now, after all, what armour could match scales that could break many a demon-forged weapon? His weaponry had changed as well, his shield was a solid bulwark upon which none but the strongest weapons, that were forged by the Titans themselves, could dent, demonic runes lined every bevel and line, it was like one had stacked numerous heater shields, from the largest to the smallest, atop of each other, fused them together, smoothed and melded them together in such a way that it was one solid shield, complete with the standard Illidari Inquisition motif to it. His flail, it'd become a weapon that would fill foes with dread, and impending doom for one who was unlucky enough to be struck by its spikes, the ball itself was now double its relative size to him, as using the chain to inflict damage would only be usable upon larger beings that required that calibre of weaponry. Avarice to protect all that he held dear. Avaritia.

 **"I ain't complainin'. Oh this is going to be fun."** Haldor's voice possessed a deep, baritone tone to it, almost like rocks grinding against one another, but possessing a commanding quality to it, as it to rally his allies to stand behind him and let the enemy break their body upon his shield.

Valien's change fitted her to perfection, where there was a tall(average for her kind), six foot Night Elf previous. Now, there stood, at the height of thirteen feet, a demonic being whose body could only be described as elegant, a body that a succubus would be jealous of was what she possessed. Muscles just hidden behind a layer of skin, helping to provide a silken smooth finish to her appearance. But when she tensed, one could easily see muscles that could easily tear a tree apart when used correctly. A battle-dress was what Valien wore, made to allow the entire range of movements within her body while still protecting the immobile parts of her body that still, despite her even more enhance dexterity, couldn't move. It matched her to utter perfection: A dexterity capable of out-classing even the wiliest of demons, which could run circles around a normal Azerothian-borne being. Her weapon, it changed the least out of all four Hunters. In fact, the only thing that did change was the normal size of it and the properties that it possessed. All of the damages that'd managed to find purchase upon it looking like they were intentionally forged into it. Pride to be without equal in skill against her foes. Superbia.

 **"I don't see how either of you can find such power to be so refined, such an inelegant form."** Smooth as silk, yet possessing a low, gentle treble that stirred baser emotions, Valien's voice possessed a tone of a sultry grace and maturity that seemed to attest to a fact that she was so much better, The Professional, and experienced Hunter that had served Illidan's cause.

Leiot's was much tamer to his fellow Illidari, only shifting in height four feet from his usual five foot eight inches, to ten feet height even. But that didn't mean he any weaker than his friends and compatriots. Rather, whereas his strength didn't come from his body, and more from the various runes and enchantments that were tattooed onto his body where they were needed. His change was more internalised, a magical core from which he could draw upon archaic, lost magics to use in combat against his enemies. There was a look in those eyes, behind those glasses of his, that seemed to analyse anything that they beheld, if it was a foe, it determined how best to eliminate his targets, regardless of number. His pistols hadn't changed at all, except for growing in size to better fit him along with his clothing, his suit perfectly fitting his form and giving him a demonic butler kind of look. Insatiability for all knowledge to better destroy the Burning Legion. Gula.

 **"My Lady, I don't think you could _ever_ look inelegant, regardless of how strong our Metamorphosis forms are. But I concur, it is rather...unpleasant to do the Full-Awakening, as I think Commander coined it, in one go. But..."** A voice that held a refined, informed tone to it, one of class and intellect unmatched by only those who had seen or knew as much as he did, trailed off.

All four Hunters inspected themselves, taking just half a minute to run through forms and motions to better accustom to their changed bodies. Leiot finishing what he said as he once-overed his magic pistols. Legion-bane looked up at the approaching reinforcing army that, fearful but still mindlessly determined, approach them along the path to their objective.

 **"As she _is_ releasing her own limiters, I'd prefer we eliminate our targets and complete our objective with all due haste. One wouldn't want to see Commander accidentally harm her own in her Wrath of War state."** The other three simultaneously winced, knowing how well each other embodied one of The Seven Deadly Sins.

 **"Ugh, well now I want to actually get this done now. Leiot, you got a battle-plan ready?" (Varadin)**

 **"Naturally, although given more time I could find even better information to better complete our objectives." (Leiot)**

 **"Well get to it then! These brainless demons think we're with'em right now, gonna need ta smash through all this...right?" (Haldorin)**

 **"For once, I agree, as graceless as it is, cutting through them will give our forces more time to defend against the swarm." (Valienkros)**

Seamlessly communicating, without any discord, a mentally voiced spell from Leiot transmitting the information of the Hunters' plan to his teammates and the leaders of the Ashtongue, Coilskar and Shivarra(Matron Mother Malevolence), who would then act accordingly to aide in the accomplishment of their objectives. With all the necessary preparations all complete, the four active Deadly Sins readied their weapons, and charged towards their targets, unwilling to let any demon in their path stand in the way. As to the army-sized reinforcements that'd been deployed, having unknowingly marched towards the four Hunters until they'd seen the motif each was adorned with upon their clothing? Well, let's just say that a slaughter was a kind way to describe how all of those demons, from Imps to Doomguards, were put down like the horrid, destructive creatures they were.

End of chapter 2: Seizing the Sargerite Keystone, Pt.2.

* * *

(*) Shortened Names for the sake of I can't really be bothered to write it all the damn time. Yes, I am lazy.  
(**) Ditto for this one too.

 **Author's Note:**

 **5000 words, whooo! What a doozy! Was feeling particularly inspired today, so I thought that I'd spend the entire day writing! Quite a fun way to channel out some energy, although my hands are getting tired now from the constant typing now. Anyway! I do so hope that you, my fellow reading enthusiasts have enjoyed this chapter. I don't think I'll churn out a chapter as quickly as within a day, but I will at least try to work on the next chapter each day, so it'll, hopefully, be muuuuch longer than this one when its released. Don't forget to drop a review if you like the story so far, I know I'll have gotten something wrong, I don't doubt that at all, but I shall strive to make sure the next one is even better if this one is lacking! This chapter was mainly fuelled by my listening to all of the OST's to Berserk (2016), so look it up and see what you think of reading it with those songs playing as well.**

 **Additional Disclaimer, I don't own the franchises World of Warcraft or berserk or any kind of reference to a series or story that any of my writing came from. I stress this so I don't get hit with anything 'cause I can't really afford that kinda crap. Anyway, that's all for now, and I'll see you all in the next chapter of:**

 **A Tale of an Odd Illidari, Ja ne!**


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